To me, the too much is living with it, living as it. Gary Speed, someone I had never heard of until today on Twitter, hanged himself this morning. The thing is, I was on Twitter to distract myself as I was feeling bad and wronged, and neglected, and unloved - standard BPD fare, and my rational mind was tracking connections between myself and the people in my life in an effort to ground myself in a more positive, realistic frame of mind. What I stumbled upon was Jeremy Vine tweeting
Given that Gary Speed had phenomenal strength and self-discipline, hopefully no depressed person will ever again be told to get a gripa reference to Stan Collymore's (another football person) really amazing post describing his black dog days.
Speed was "42 years old, great player and manager, and was on Fooball Focus only yesterday - why?" (Vine again). Iain was jabbering about how we dunno why, or if he was having treatment or whatever. He was fine the day before say plenty of people who were on tv with him though. 2 kids. Wife.
Sigh. We do know why though don't we, and it's not so much terrifying as so, so devastatingly sad. Takes hope and shows it to be the mockery it really is. The blame, the lacklustre conversations on Skype or email or even on the phone, even face to face ...... why carry on, why why more like. Things are just as likely to never work out, you know.
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